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Page 364
gave orders that sand was to be obtained at once, and jars of cold water. The sand was to be heated, then poured into soft sacks, and cloths must be found for soaking in the water. While these preparations were being made, Alinor went softly to the bed and opened the curtains. So deeply was Ian sleeping that his eyelids did not even flicker when the light touched his face. Alinor fetched her chest of medicinals and softly, carefully, she began to apply unguents to Ian's bruises. Even then he did not stir, although from time to time he groaned.
It was a night that would return to Alinor in nightmares for many years, but toward morning her total despair began to lift. Not only did Ian seem to be sleeping more lightly and naturally, but the hours of application of hot and cold to his bruised body appeared to be having an effect. He was shifting himself more easily, and his groans had faded into silence or an occasional grunt of discomfort when he turned onto a tender spot. Two or three hours before dawn he even roused and looked blearily at Alinor.
"What are you doing?" he muttered querulously.
"Treating your bruises, so that you will not be stiff as a plank of wood tomorrow," Alinor snapped.
He passed his tongue across his lips, and Alinor held out an imperious hand. A maid hurried to put a cup of watered wine into it. Alinor lifted Ian's head and put the cup to his lips. He drank thirstily, then reopened his eyes, squinting against the light.
"Come to bed," he complained. "It is very late. Leave the maids to tend to me. I cannot sleep when you are not beside me."
Alinor repressed a hysterical giggle. What had he been doing until now? On consideration, however, it seemed like a good idea. She had slept very little the night before and not at all this night. She knew she would have to sit beside the king again during the

 
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